Hide and Seek
by Loraya
Summary: Deleted Episode: Hide and Seek. Gibbs is in for more than he bargained for when he has to protect a missing Marine's two kids... Rated for abuse, murder, unpleasant violence, and mentions of attempted rape. /12/15/2010: CHAPTER 7! Quick Edit./
1. Crop Circles In The Carpet

**AN: -gets shot'd by the people who are reading her neglected multifics- Yeah, I know, I suck monkey balls... BUT... I became a fan of NCIS a couple of months back, and yesterday I had this really awesome dream, and so I have to write this. To be honest, I think it kind of sucks, yet I don't think I did so bad. It's just this chapter for now, but if people actually like it, I'll continue it. Personally, it's fun to write what Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva do and say...**

**This is my first shot at an NCIS fic. Yes, I know, the new charrie I threw in here is kind of bitchy, but she winds down soon. Besides, I honestly can't blame her.**

**Since I have a tendency to make LONG ANs, I'm going to shut my bleeper and present to you... Part 1 of Deleted Episode: Hide and Seek. (Yes, named after Imogen Heap's song.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't really care for these... but I think I have to in this case... DO I OWN NCIS? Maybe I will when I reach the end of the rainbow. DO I OWN "HIDE AND SEEK"? Pfft, ask yourself this: CAN THIS WEIRD CHICK WRITING THE FIC POSSIBLY HAVE THE TALENT TO MAKE SOMETHING EVEN REMOTELY RELATED TO IMOGEN HEAP'S LYRICS? The answer is obviously no.**

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* * *

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Once upon a time, a Marine went missing. Shocking news, yes?

It happened to take place in Washington, DC.

The NCIS were called upon to investigate this. Even more astonishing.

The case just happened to lead them to a door of a lone house in the middle of the woods.

Gibbs paused before rapping his fist on said door, his piercing blue eyes analyzing the paint peeling away, the cracks embedded into the old wood. The porch he and his agents were standing upon was dusty, the boards untrustworthy as they rattled beneath the visitors' feet. Surely this wasn't exactly a safe enviroment to live in, especially when alone in the middle of... the woods?

In all honesty, part of him didn't want to do this. And yet he really did. He needed to.

Why?

The answer opened the door.

"Can I help you?" the girl asked warily, glancing from Gibbs to the silent people behind him. She was a teenager, looked about sixteen. Gibbs knew she was actually fifteen, with a brother who just turned seven. They didn't have a mother, and their father.

Steeling himself, he met the teen's brown eyes, trying to read her expression. It was almost impossible to see what she was thinking.

"Samantha Reed?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs. These are my agents, David and DiNozzo," he introduced briefly, stepping aside to let the girl see who was who. "Your father's Kyle Reed? A Marine?"

There was an unmistakable flash of fear on Samantha's young face. "Yes. What about him?"

"He was reported missing today when he didn't show up at his base three days ago. I don't suppose you can help us out here?" Gibbs asked cautiously, getting straight to the point.

"N-No... I haven't seen him since he left..."

Somehow Gibbs knew this would be the answer. "Over the past year, there was a shooting and two explosions..." he started. "I've read that you were shot at by an enemy of your father's..."

"Yeah, he missed, and the FBI got him," Samantha replied shortly.

The older agent looked at her closely, not missing the way the girl was leaning on the door frame, her body blocking any entrance as she kept her hand on the knob.

"We understand that Kyle has many enemies," a woman spoke up from behind him. Gibbs didn't say anything as Ziva continued: "Until our teammates find him, we have been sent here to protect you." She glanced sideways at her partner, who murmured his agreement rather cheerfully.

The door mysteriously edged closer to the point of being slammed in the agents' face. "Th-There's really no point," stuttered Samantha. "Just find my dad... Don't waste your time in protecting us."

"Sam, your dad isn't the only target here," the man standing next to Ziva pointed out. "And like my partner here just said, we have teammates back in D.C. working on finding him."

"Sorry, you can't call me Sam," the teenager retorted icily, ignoring the surprised looks on the adults' faces. "I can just take my brother and head over to a friend's."

"No can do," Gibbs said firmly. "That'll be putting more people in danger. We're staying here."

Before a reply could be made, a small voice from behind Samantha spoke up. "Sister, what's going on?"

"Go back to eating your--" She was cut off as Gibbs planted his hand on the door and swung it wide open, revealing a short, thin boy with sandy-blonde hair sticking every which way, his eyes wide and scared as he stared up at the intidimating man in the doorway.

Samantha stood defiantly in front of the aforementioned man. "You can't come in," she said irritably. "Leave us alone."

"Is this about Daddy?" the boy asked, coming up and clinging to his older sister's sweatpants.

"He's gone at the moment, but these cops are going to find him," Samantha said, the edge to her voice dropping as the girl placed a hand on the boy's head.

"Special Agents, ma'am," Tony corrected, earning a jab in the ribs by Ziva.

With a sigh, Gibbs took another step forward, watching the fear mounting in Samantha's face, and watching as the boy hid behind his sister. "It's our job to stay here and offer protection."

"We have protection." As if on cue, there was a barking from somewhere in the house. Gibbs was about to say, "I'm sure your dog can shield you from flying bullets but not exactly grenades," but decided that wasn't such a good idea. Gently yet firmly he placed his hands on Samantha's stiff shoulders, noting the scrawniness in her limbs, and moved her aside. "We're staying," he said matter-of-factly.

"Boss, you might want to be careful; that dog could eat you..." Tony trailed off as Gibbs gave him a glare. "Sorry."

"Are you scared, Special Agent DiNozzo?" Ziva teased, her dark eyes gleaming in the dimness of the house as they all stepped inside, every one of them ignoring the indignation on Samantha's face.

Closing his ears to his agents, Gibbs kneeled down by Samantha, meeting the big gray eyes of the boy hiding behind a pair of legs. "Hi," he greeted, his normally gruff voice kind for once. "What's your name, bud?" He already knew, but it didn't hurt to ask, especially when the poor thing seemed terrified of the adults in his house.

"K-K-Kyle, J-Jr...." he stammered.

"Kyle, Jr.. That's a nice name."

"Er... Th... Thanks... What's, um, yours...?"

"Special Agent Gibbs." The older man took out his badge and held it up for the child to see. "Do you want to hold it?"

Tentatively Kyle reached out and took it gingerly, examining it in awe. "Is your name really... Sp-Sp... Spekal Agent?"

As Kyle let go of his sister, Samantha moved away, keeping close to her little brother, but staring outside the tiny window nearby.

Briefly glancing out of the corner of his eye at her, Gibbs chuckled at Kyle. He felt the urge to tussle the boy's already messy hair, but his gut told him not to. "No," he said gently, not bothering to correct him by saying 'Special.' "That's what I'm called at work. My real name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Kyle looked confused as he gave the badge back. "That's... a weird name..." His blue eyes widened in sudden terror. "I-I'm sorry! Pl-Please don't h-h-hit me for saying that!"

Furrowing his brow, Leroy was just about to ask why the hell he'd hit the poor scrap for that, when Samantha darted over and scooped up her sibling in her arms. "Kyle, don't ever say that," she scolded, kissing the teary-eyed child's forehead. "These people aren't like that. Now, let's go get you into the bath." She narrowed her eyes as Gibbs straightened up to his full height, silently demanding him not to say anything.

The corner of his lip twitched. 'What balls. Reminds me of Kate,' he thought, almost wistful, as he eyed Kyle burying his nose into Samantha's tussled chestnut-brown hair. But he didn't make a sound.

"Tony, might I ask what the hell you are doing?" Ziva's voice drifted from the hallway nearby.

"Easy, Zeevah, I'm just looking for the-- Oh, no. Back away slowly..." Tony's answer was followed by a low growling.

"See, this is why you do not go wandering around a house you do not live in, especially when there is a dog!"

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs gave the mutinous Samantha a semi-apologetic glance before striding past the patchy couch and turning the corner -- very slowly. "Tony, you idiot, what did you do now?"

"Boss, the dog just came out of nowhere!"

"That really defends your idiocy," Ziva hissed, take a few steps back, quietly and lightly.

"Just let me handle this," her partner assured, still in the middle of the hallway. Gibbs could see the bulky body of a rottweiler, baring its fangs at DiNozzo. "I'm a guy, the dog's a guy, it's a guy thing. We can talk this out."

Once more Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Damn it, DiNozzo, how about you stay still and shut up? Sam!" he barked. "Can you keep your dog from attacking the moron?"

"I'm hurt, Boss..."

Samantha hesitated, looking as though she would've rather let the agents get eaten by the ferocious animal, but nodded and put Kyle down on the couch before joining Gibbs. "I said don't call me Sam," she pointed out, but without waiting for an answer she stepped forward, this time next to Ziva. "Okay, Moron DiNozzo, if you twitch one muscle before I can even reach you, I'm leaving you as dog-food. So, you might want to stay put."

Gibbs exchanged an amused glance with Ziva over the girl's head. She had an attitude, alright.

Samantha nudged past Tony, accidentally or not accidentally stepping on the agent's foot along the way, causing the faintest hiss to come from his mouth. "Hey, there, Shadow," she cooed. The rottweiler relaxed a little, his black-and-brown fur laying flat on his back as he snuffled Sam's outstretched hand and gave it a lick. "Yeah, I don't like them either, but they have to stay with us for a while. You can handle that, can't you?" She stroked Shadow's broad head.

While Gibbs stared at the back of Sam's head in minor annoyance and Ziva merely had an amused expression on her face, Tony was off somewhere in the background, utterly relieved he didn't become the biggest dog treat ever made.

"Sit, Shadow," Samantha demanded, and the dog immediately obeyed, staying put as his owner stalked up to Tony. "I don't care if I'm a fifteen-year-old little girl to you cops or agents or whatever, but I swear if you go snooping around here without even bothering to ask me, again, I will be more than happy to sic my dog on you," she spat furiously.

Tony put up his hands as if in self-defense, not noticing Samantha flinch at the sudden movement. "I think I learned my lesson," he retorted.

"What were you doing, anyway?" Gibbs queried, irked, keeping one blue eye on the dog.

"He said he had to take a hose," Ziva added in her two cents. She blinked as all pairs of eyes were set on her. "What?"

"Hose?" Gibbs echoed.

"She meant 'whiz.' Where did 'hose' come from?" Tony asked incredulously.

"Like I have said before, your English is confusing," the young woman responded defensively, obviously trying to hide her embarrassment.

Gibbs nearly found this whole exchange funny, but as usual his lined face didn't show anything but exasperation and irritation. In the meantime, Samantha's face was twisted in total bewilderment as the teen went to retrieve her little brother, who sat dazedly on the couch.

As she quickly passed by, Tony asked hastily, "Can I use your bathroom first?"

"There are plenty of bushes outside. Maybe Shadow can show you where he takes his, er, whizzes," was the reply as a door up ahead slammed shut, leaving the agents to look at each other.

"Boss, do I have to stay here?" Tony asked almost imploringly, not sure he'd be able to handle the rebellious girl's attitude.

"Yes," Leroy replied simply. "Like she said, all you have to do is walk outside and head for a bush." He kept a straight face.

Ziva snickered as she took Tony's arm and pulled him towards the silent dog, who remained where Sam had left him. "Shadow would not mind escorting you, would he?"

"Ah-ha-ha, I don't think I'll ask him," came the tight reply. Shadow's eyes narrowed at Tony. A low rumbling growl came from deep within his belly. He barked once.

"I don't think you need to; he probably won't like it if you spray his territory," Gibbs remarked, turning away back to the living room.

At this, Ziva cracked up laughing, especially at the look on Tony's face, and followed her boss. "Shall I take a look around outside?" she ventured after calming down. She recieved a nod.

"Have fun, Zeevah. Watch out for the dog poop," her partner advised her smugly.

"You're going with her, DiNozzo."

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it. He twitched. _Damn_. "Right, boss."

After the front door had been shut, Leroy Jethro Gibbs stood in the middle of the living room and stared around. It stunk of beer in this sad, lonely haven. It was dim, which he didn't really mind.

With a grunt, Shadow jumped onto the lumpy couch and settled down, not really paying any more attention to the Special Agent.

"This is going to be a long stay," Gibbs mused. The only answer he got was a soft snort from Shadow.

* * *

_Where are we?_

_What the hell, is going on?_

_The dust has only just, began to fall._

_Crop circles in the carpet._

_Sinking, feeling..._


	2. Still Life

**AN: Hey, I updated, like, a week later! 8O Thanks for the response, guys. Pretty good for a start, I guess. Two reviews, five story alerts, one favorite, and 200 visitors.**

**Well, I don't have much to say, except I hope you like this chapter. I got it done in two hours. By the way, the maximum chapters for this story will be about seven chapters, I'm guessing. The minimum is five. It's just one episode (to me) so it can't be THAT long.**

**Oh, yeah. I found out that one of the most recent episodes is called "Hide and Seek." xD Oops! I saw that one, but I don't really pay attention to the names of the episodes, so... 83 I'm keeping "Hide and Seek" for this deleted episode, though.**

**Just so I don't get sued for calling this a deleted episode, here's my disclaimer: I DON'T OWN NCIS OR THE CHARRIES. Just this fic. And the charries _I_ made up. So no giving me any crap. Also, the song "Hide and Seek" belongs to Imogen Heap. LOOK IT UP. It's good. She's very talented.**

**Enjoy. AND GIMME MY REVIEWS. Danke schon. ("Thank you very much" in German.)**

**P.S. Just because the characters are "L. J. Gibbs & Tony D." that does not mean this is a slash. They're just two of the main charries in this fic. XP And no, I'm NOT homophobic (I'd be freakin' hypocritical if I was), I just don't like GiNozzo or Dibbs or whatever the heck you guys call them. -shudders- And I don't like Gabby, or Giva/Zibbs, or-- -walks away mumbling-**

* * *

_Spin me around, again._

And rub my eyes.

_This can't be happening._

When busy streets, a mess with people would stop to hold, their heads

_Heavy._

* * *

"Sam," Gibbs nodded as the girl emerged from the bathroom a few minutes ago to give her little brother some time to himself.

"Samantha."

Gibbs ignored her. "I need to see your father's room."

"Why?"

He suppressed a sigh. "There may be a few clues that can lead us to finding him."

Sam blinked. Gibbs doubted the young teen could look more disheveled and tired if she tried. Her short, mousy hair was ruffled as if in distress. The strikingly black -- though plain (Abby comes to mind) -- clothes she wore were crinkled, as though Samantha had fallen asleep in them. She was a tad short... a little above Gibbs' elbow... But that didn't really count when it came to this pitiful appearance.

What stood out most was how stiff her body posture was, as though she was deeply afraid and suspicious of the Special Agents -- and her liquid-brown eyes were strangest of all. They flickered one moment, with a single emotion or a tangle of more than one, and then they were cold and steely the next. Sam was trying her hardest to put up a wall between herself and the adults.

As though noticing the silvery-haired man analyzing her, Sam looked down at her feet wrapped in -- surprise -- black socks. "Okay."

Reluctantly she stepped back into the hallway, and Gibbs followed, glad to be moving around rather than being stared at by a ferocious dog. Speaking of which, Shadow silently got down from the couch and ensued the man at a wary pace.

There were four rooms. The bathroom, in which Kyle, Jr. was mumbling to himself in the bath behind a -- mostly -- closed door, was at the far end of the hall, just off to the right. Opposite that was another room, the door wide open. Gibbs watched as Sam casually strided down the narrow hallway to close said door.

"Your room, I'm assuming?" he inquired.

"Yeah. Kyle's is right there." She pointed at the bedroom next to hers, as far as a yard-stick could go. "And that's... Dad's," she went on, staring at the door across from Kyle Jr's.

Gibbs paused for just a heartbeat, noting the way Sam had to force out "Dad," as though the word suddenly left a bitter taste in her mouth. He glanced away from her, telling himself it was just out of worry and despair.

Except Samantha Reed didn't seem overly concerned or distraught about her father's disappearance.

* * *

"Zeevah. I think I'll take a 'hose' before we head back inside," DiNozzo smirked after they had covered the area around the house, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Just overgrown weeds and grasses needing to be mowed. Badly.

"I'm going to kill you if you don't shut up about that," Ziva hissed, having heard Tony make a crack comment on "hose" three times already.

Tony acted as though he hadn't heard her, and bent down to peer under the creaky porch.

Special Agent David considered kicking his ass -- as in, literally kicking his ass -- and sending him to meet whatever friendly little creatures were roaming around under the house, but then decided she didn't want Gibbs biting her head off. Even though she knew her boss would probably be laughing like an erupting volcano. Mentally.

That's when her cellphone went off. Twitching, she answered it with a single "What?" in Hebrew.

Straightening up, Tony watched curiously as Ziva turned her back on him and walked a few paces ahead. The Mossad agent sounded extremely annoyed as she growled out more Hebrew. This made Tony itchy to the point where he wanted to snatch the phone from her and tell whoever it was bugging the crap out of her to screw off. Then he remembered the time he accidentally (to an extent) cursed Ziva's aunt out. No, today was not his day to die.

Instead, he went to go get their gear from the car.

* * *

Samantha announced some excuse or rather that she needed to do something, and had gone off before Gibbs could reply.

She hadn't seemed to want to come into her father's room, and Gibbs figured out that it was more out of shame rather than tears and tissues.

The faintest look of disgust was planted on his lined face as the elderly -- well, the oldest of the group -- adult examined the sad excuse for a room.

It wasn't very big and homely. The walls were long deprived of any photos or other decorations, and were layered with yellow, which meant years of smoking mercilessly in that room.

The floor was a stretch of hard wood that should've been polished and cleaned, but was instead streaked with gentle dust. Only footprints and obvious boot scuffling marks showed that there had been any life in here.

There was one-person bed pushed up against the far corner to the left of the door. The woolen blanket was in a crumpled heap against the wall; a puffy pillow poked out from underneath the thick material. There were no sheets, but Gibbs could see areas where the mattress had been worn to the point of having holes. A lone beer bottle was tottering precariously on the edge of the bed.

Snapping on his gloves, just in case, Gibbs took the glass bottle by the neck and placed it atop the bare nightstand standing forlornly by the messy bed. He roved his startlingly blue eyes around some more, taking in the sight of a dresser just by the closet, which stood silently next to the door, some clothes littering the floor in front of it. There appeared to be a pack of cigarettes and a few more empty beers on top of the dresser. Not only that, but--

He took a few more steps forward until he reached the dresser, scrutinizing the out-of-place jewelry box, the flowery case wide open. Strangely enough, there was nothing inside.

In another heartbeat, Gibbs' eye caught something else. Typically, the top of the dresser was smothered in dust. Beyond the jewelry box, there was a trail among the oak -- no dust. The path was as wide as the box itself, leading up to the back and against the yellow wall in thin shadows. Gibbs immediately made the connection that the box had long been left alone there until just recently, when someone seemed to have hastily grabbed hold of it and pulled it towards them to scrounge around for the contents inside. And it was very recent; he put his gloved finger to the clean trail and decided it had occurred maybe a day or two back.

The sole of his shoe nudged something. Glancing down, Gibbs blinked at the broken remains of yet another bottle, scattered about to the side of the dresser. It looked as if whoever had been in here for the jewelry box had sent one of the unwelcoming objects over the edge.

_A vandalism, maybe,_ he thought grimly. _Unless Kyle Reed had gotten into a drunken stupor._

He crushed the flaring flame of anger and revulsion at the thought of those two kids living with an aloholic, who was supposed to be one of the most respected Marines in his base. _I'll just have to have a word with his Captain._

But first things first. "Samantha!" he called, and frowned as he finally noticed Shadow sitting in the doorway, gazing intently at Gibbs. "What?" he practically snarled. The dog was making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "Shouldn't you be out there mauling DiNozzo?"

He snorted when the rottweiler's stub for a tail moved from side to side in what would be called a wag. "You think that's funny, don't you?" He felt a slight twinge of relief when Samantha appeared. "Would you mind getting that dog out of here?" More of a demand rather than a request.

"Sure," was the automatic reply. Sam took hold of Shadow's studded collar.

"After you come in here and tell me what happened," Gibbs finished.

Sam's eyes widened, and for a second Gibbs saw a wave of fear in those dark depths; but then the girl seemed to calm herself down. "What do you mean?" she asked, betraying her nervousness as her voice wavered slightly. She didn't move, just tightened her grip on Shadow.

"I'm not going to bite," Gibbs retorted, removing all emotion from his voice. "I need you to tell me what happened in this room."

They had a staredown. Well, not exactly a staredown; it was more like Gibbs staring Sam down and crushing her silent protests with his commanding self.

And it really didn't take much of anything for him to win, as usual.

Samantha edged into the room, letting go of her dog, and stopped about two feet away from Gibbs.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, the man turned back to the dresser. "Did someone break in?" he queried carefully.

He didn't look at her. The heavy silence stretched on. Just as it was beginning to become suffocating, Sam said quietly, "No."

"How much did your father drink?"

"I don't know."

"Did he do this?" Gibbs gestured to the broken bottle.

"No. I mean, yes," Sam quickly amended, earning a suspicious sideways glance.

Starting to prickle with annoyance, Gibbs went on, keeping his voice level. "Really, now. Why did he take" -- he paused, thinking -- "the jewelry?" After all, what else could be in the small box?

"Maybe he just wanted it with him..." Sam offered weakly, staring holes into the floor.

"Why does he even own this kind of thing?" Gibbs became a little sharper in tone.

"It belonged to Mom." As though Gibbs had provoked her, Sam's voice was instantly taut with anger.

Gibbs pursed his lips. He knew the kids' mother had died a long time ago, when giving birth to Kyle Jr. "Ah," he responded at last, taking the edge from his tone as he chose his next words with care. "Samantha..." There were two questions on his mind, the first bugging him the most. But he veered away from that, deciding to save it for another time. "Your father is missing out there. You're hiding something about it. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to figure it out myself?"

"I'm not hiding anything," Sam muttered, her head hanging. Gibbs bit back another sigh. He was just about to press more, but Tony and Ziva had chosen that moment to make their entrance.

As Gibbs' fellow agents set their gear down by the doorway, Gibbs watched solemnly as Samantha drew a hand over her hair to settle down some of the frizz before she practically had to drag Shadow out into the hallway. That dog hated DiNozzo.

Gibbs didn't like the atmosphere of this house, the disturbing questions and possibilities spinning in his head. And he especially didn't like how that girl was keeping the NCIS agents at an arm's length, her brick wall covering something up. And his gut told him that that "something" needed to come out into the open.

Not just because it had to do with solving the case and finding Kyle Reed the Marine, but because the "something" was going to throw danger into this mission.

And that danger was going to turn out fatal.

* * *

_Hide and seek._

_Trains and sewing machines._

_All those years_

_They were here first._

Oily marks appear on walls

_Where pleasure moments hung before_

_The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this_

_Still life._


	3. You Won't Catch Me

**AN: Sorry for not updating in a month! Listening to "Hide and Seek" made me get writing today. I don't have much to say, except not much happens in this chapter... I guess you can sort of see it as a filler. Hope you guys like it.**

**Oh, yeah, and there's German. I put translations at the end, though.**

**EDIT, like, a few hours later: I forgot to add one thing... I dun mean to sound like a review whore, but I WANT REVIEWS! xD Please? -puppy dog eyes- At least two reviews for this chapter! So that means... We need to get up to five! I have 3 from the previous chappies. So, ja. Review, and you might actually get a quicker update.**

* * *

_Hide and seek._

_Trains and sewing machines._

_Oh, you won't catch me around here._

_Na-daaa..._

* * *

The territory had to be scoured. Check.

Mr. Marine Dad's room had to be photographed and processed. Check.

Shadow needed to shut DiNozzo up about those movies. Check.

The siblings really needed to help out somehow. That box is marked with an X.

Gibbs sat down on the front porch steps, pausing as the boards whined under his weight before relaxing slightly. His silver hair was rimmed with yellow-gold in the dying rays of the late evening sun. Raising his chin and folding his hands over his knees, the agent narrowed his eyes at the red-streaked sky, the back of his neck prickling at the sight. It gave an eerie sensation.

He wasn't the spiritual type, but as he watched the brightly colored clouds sail by, he couldn't help thinking of how much the sight resembled gashes and blood. He couldn't help the feeling that it was an ominous sign.

Giving a small shake of his head, Gibbs looked towards the gravel driveway, and then beyond to the trees and the dirt road. He never thought it was safe to live out in the woods, where predators of all kinds could be lurking in the shadows, behind every tree and bush, watching from night's cloak...

Sigh. He was just concerned about the kids. And frustrated with Samantha's blatant silence. And pissed at the missing Marine for raising his children in such an unsafe enviroment. And determined to find said Marine for various reasons.

He was convinced there was something going on that Samantha wasn't regarding when she should be. For example, she acted quite funny -- not haha hilarious -- when Gibbs asked about the broken bottle by the dresser. So just in case there were any unfamiliar fingerprints that weren't Reed's on the jewelry box -- Gibbs' gut told him there had been someone else in that room recently -- he had DiNozzo bag it for examination. The broken bottle pieces were evidence as well; upon looking closer, Ziva had pointed out semi-dried liquid on the whiskey-brown glass. It could be blood or liquor or whatever, but not taking any chances, Gibbs handed his Mossad-trained agent a container to put the shattered fragments in.

He had also avoided the trail of boot marks heading straight for the dresser, and made sure his Special Agents did the same -- except DiNozzo had accidentally treaded on the start of the dust trail right when Gibbs opened his mouth to warn him. But back to the point: the ever-cautious man had pictures taken closely of the prints. You never know whom they belong to or what they might lead to.

It had been over an hour since Tony DiNozzo left to take what evidence they had to Abby, their forensics scientist back at NCIS headquarters. Knowing her, Gibbs thought fondly, she'd find many clues for this investigation. That girl could do anything.

Inside the house, Ziva was helping Samantha cook dinner. Well, when Gibbs had walked out the door for some fresh air, Ziva was forcefully giving her assistance since Sam seemed to be very clumsy in the kitchen... Kyle, Jr., bathed and in clean clothes, was sitting at the table, watching nervously. And Shadow... Well, of course he was there. The huge dog stuck to the kids like a magnet.

Gibbs scratched the back of his head and got to his feet, deciding to make sure the girls didn't hurt each other; Samantha was acting very stubborn with Ziva, something a lot of people wouldn't dare do. But then, she wasn't aware of the Mossad's... background.

With a few steps he was back in the house, closing the door quietly behind him. The kitchen was just by the hallway, beyond the living room. So he walked across the carpet through the dimness and the stink, and emerged, blinking once, into a surprisingly lit-up area.

It smelled as though something had burned there in the not-so-far past, and Gibbs suspected that with Samantha's clumsiness, she probably made a mess somehow.

It was smaller than the living room, and plain, but a little more pleasant, with a polished tile floor and a fresh lightbulb in the ceiling. A table of clean oak stood on all four legs in the middle, just a yard away from the metallic sink and the counters -- which were littered by ingredients of whatever was being cooked. A griddle lay simmering on the stove; Gibbs could see fish.

Ziva was currently getting out glasses and plates, remarking on one of the cupboards needing repair. Kyle, Jr. was gazing at her tentatively, looking like he wanted to help with the dishes, and Shadow was lying on his side at the young boy's feet, barely acknowledging Gibbs' presence.

Meanwhile, Samantha set down a ball of dough on one part of the counter layered with flour. As Gibbs watched from the door, the girl pulled on a drawer. It squeaked open, and Samantha retrieved a rolling pin to use, only to turn around and bang it against the counter on accident, causing her to drop the cooking tool.

"Scheisse!" Sam growled in irritation, bending to pick up the object as it rolled away.

Ziva chuckled. "Sprache, Sprache," she admonished gently, setting the dishes down on the table as Kyle, Jr. cringed at his sister's annoyed tone.

Samantha whirled around to face the woman in surprise. "Sie sprechen Deutsch?"

"Ja, etwas davon," replied Ziva, smiling kindly down at the little boy in front of her as she organized the plates.

Kyle, Jr. stared back. "What... I don't get it..."

"You don't know that much German yet," Samantha pointed out half-heartedly.

_Right. They're speaking German,_ Gibbs thought to himself. He had figured, but since he didn't know all that much of the foreign language himself, he just didn't know. But he wasn't going to ask what the females had just exchanged. "Does anybody need my help?" he finally spoke, gaining the attention of Sammy and Kyle, Jr.

Ziva, of course, had long noticed her boss' presence without even looking at him. "I think the fish need to be flopped, actually."

Both the kids stared at her in confusion, and Ziva raised an eyebrow and asked, "What?"

"It's 'flipped,' not 'flopped'," Gibbs pointed out, the corner of his lip quirking upwards.

"Oh... Then they need to be flipped."

"Will do."

The rest of the evening was spent with the aromas of food, the sounds of constant bangings and crashes (which proved that Samantha shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen), and cooking a much-needed dinner after that long day. Every now and then Kyle, Jr. would actually speak, but he tended to keep to himself.

By the time Tony came back, Samantha was just getting extra chairs so they could all sit down around the table and chow down the food. Of course, Shadow had to be put outside.

During the small feast of fish, pie, and salad, Gibbs remained silent, not taking any part in the light-hearted verbal spars between Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David, only watching interestedly as Ziva eventually turned to Kyle, Jr. to ask him how much German he knew. When he revealed he had a grasp on numbers, name introductions, and descriptions, the black-haired agent casually reviewed him. The boy seemed rather comfortable around her, but he remained shy, stuttering through his lines and numbers. He tripped over pronounciation often, and furrowed his eyebrows constantly in concentration. Despite the fact that Kyle was eight years old, he had noticeable trouble with his speech. Not severe, but out there.

Samantha, in the meantime, just sat there and ate silently, not looking up to meet anyone's eye. Again, Gibbs felt a little unsettled. It was as though he was looking down into a well. He tried to glimpse the water, but it was so far down, and so black, he couldn't see anything but cobbled stone that wasn't touched by darkness. There was something wrong with this mission.

He hesitated after finishing off his slice of apple pie. He knew a little bit, thanks to Ziva, and besides, maybe the comment would help Samantha loosen up slightly. He cleared his throat, and the girl looked up in question. Gibbs gestured towards the leftover pie and said sincerely, "Das ist sehr gut."

* * *

**Translations!**

**Samantha: "Shit!"**

**Ziva: "Language, language."**

**Samantha: "You speak German?"**

**Ziva: "Yes, some of it."**

**...**

**Gibbs: "That is very good."**


	4. They Were Here First

**AN: This fic is going kind of slow, huh? Well, hopefully it'll speed up next chapter.**

**Oh, yeah, Dragon, thanks. xP I'm learning German in school, and I've been studying a bit on the internet. I kinda thought "You speak German?" would be "Deutsch sprichst du?" but the translator said otherwise. xD Man, it's soooo hard learning German!**

**

* * *

**

By the time dinner was over and the dishes were in the process of being washed, Gibbs was starting to get worried as he decided to keep a closer eye on Samantha, who was acting strangely.

When Tony had got up just a few minutes back to graciously clean off the table, his cellphone went off. In his attempt to answer it while juggling the plates in one arm, he'd accidentally elbowed Sam, who was making a move to grab said plates in order to save them, in the chest.

The small teenage girl had made an odd noise -- something between a whimper and a shriek, her eyes going wide and her face turning pale. Her hands flew up to her chest and, ignoring Tony's surprised apology, whirled around to storm out of the kitchen.

Now Tony was muttering into his phone by the fridge; Gibbs turned on the sink faucet and scrubbed at a glass.

He didn't look up as Ziva reappeared by his side. "So?" he prompted, keeping his voice neutral. The young woman had instantly left the dining table to check up on Samantha. Kyle, Jr. was still in his chair. Poor thing had shrunken down until he was practically under the table; he just shook his head, looking haunted, when Ziva asked what was wrong.

"She's in the bathroom," Ziva reported, handing her boss a towel. "She hasn't come out, but she told me she's fine. Tony merely hit her too hard."

"Did he," Gibbs replied flatly.

"I do not believe her either. The sound she made... Samantha seems to be hurt, and not because of a little bruising. Have you noticed her finching earlier?"

The silver-haired man paused. "Flinching," he corrected, recieving an incoherent murmur of annoyance. He didn't admit that he hadn't noticed. In fact, he'd been too busy mulling over the case and its oddities, as well as the information kept hidden by the kids.

"Yes, well, I have only seen her do it a few times, but whatever is bothering her is also distracting her. I believe the pain is what's making her so irritable, and perhaps it's the reason for her" -- Ziva hesitated, furrowing her brow -- "clumsiness."

Gibbs popped open the dishwasher and began piling in dishes. "The question: what is causing the pain?"

"And how."

They both glanced over their shoulders at Kyle, Jr., who was staring up at the ceiling, as though intrigued by the blaring whiteness. The two agents had been keeping their voices as low as possible over the rush of water, so the little boy wouldn't overhear.

"That was Abby. And McGee," Tony announced as he came over to join them, waving his cell a little. He quickly turned the volume of his voice down. "Abbs told me that it was indeed blood on the beer bottle fragments, and it isn't Reed's. According to his file, his blood type is A. The... other blood type is O. Right now the fingerprints on the jewelry box are being tested."

Gibbs just looked at him. So he'd been right: there had been an intruder.

"Erm..." DiNozzo shifted from foot to foot, looking guilty. "Is Samantha okay?"

"Hopefully. Don't wear that look, Tony. I would like to talk to you."

As Ziva pulled Tony away and muttered to him what she had revealed to Gibbs, Gibbs sponged down the last few dishes and calmly placed them with the others in the dishwasher.

So, Samantha had lied to him. Obviously. He'd already known -- the girl was bad at lying -- but now he had evidence. He itched with annoyance and impatience. Didn't that stubborn child want her father found?

His spine prickled. Maybe she didn't. Maybe she never wanted to see that Marine's face again. Maybe...

Clenching his teeth, Gibbs decided to question Samantha again, and this time he was getting an answer.

But first, he got the dishwasher going and knelt down by Kyle, Jr.. "Are you going to sit there all night?" he asked gently.

Kyle, Jr. turned his head towards him. "N-No... I... I'm... I don't think she's going to get better now," he whispered miserably.

With a frown, Gibbs proceeded with caution, "What do you mean?"

"Sammy said... She said she wo..." The boy narrowed his eyes as he struggled to get down the word: "...wou... would be okay... But she keeps hurting..."

Gibbs stared at Kyle, Jr., not liking the implication he was getting. But he couldn't prod any further, not when Kyle was on the verge of tears. "She'll be fine," he assured. "Don't worry. We'll take care of her, alright?"

The blue-eyed child didn't look convinced, but he nodded slowly.

"It's probably time for you to get to bed by now, anyway," Gibbs decided, checking his watch. It was 8:29 PM. "School's tomorrow."

Kyle, Jr. went on to wear an expression of disappointment. "But..."

"No buts."

**

* * *

**

After convincing Kyle, Jr. to go to the bathroom and do the usual routine -- brush teeth, use the toilet, put on PJs, etc. -- Gibbs sent his agents to set up the cameras.

From the kitchen entrance, he gazed out the window wordlessly for a few heartbeats, watching the last of light's strength die away from the sky. Then, calmly, he shifted and made his way through the dim hallway, stopping outside Samantha's room, knowing she had gone in there as soon as Kyle, Jr. reached the bathroom. Gibbs rapped his knuckles against the door, and waited. As he waited, he dug his sole into the carpet and moved his foot. The stained tan floor felt stiff, with a puny "Scriiitch" as he deliberately manuvered his shoe.

The door creaked open, and Samantha peeked out, her dark eyes peering up at Gibbs questioningly. "Are you really staying the night?"

The strained, wavering note in her voice didn't go past Gibbs -- she was trying to cover up the pain. "Yes," he confirmed. "There are cameras being put up to keep surveillance."

Sam looked disturbed at this, but she just said, "There aren't any guest rooms, though."

"The living room will do. We're not looking to sleep away the visit, anyway," Gibbs pointed out.

"Okay, then, good night." This being said as politely as possible, Samantha moved to close her bedroom door, but like before, Gibbs held out a hand to stop her.

"Did you recently bleach this part of the carpet?" He watched her expression closely, and sighed inwardly at the terror on her face. He took a step back and reached for the wall, using a finger to flick the switch on. The hallway lit up instantly from the single lightbulb in the ceiling. Gibbs knelt down and brushed his palm against the floor in front of Samantha's door. The texture stood out -- and the discoloration was blatantly obvious when you looked at it. "Must have been a major mess."

"Oh... Oh! Yeah... My dad..." Samantha cleared her throat, seeming to struggle to find the words. "He spilled beer all over it."

"Is that a fact." It wasn't a question. Gibbs straightened up and gestured for Sam to step out of the room, furrowing his brow at seeing her in a thick sweater. "Did he hurt you and your brother?"

The girl seemed to shrink in size. "I don't know what you're talking about... He might have drank a lot, but he wasn't a bad father..."

Gibbs barely stopped himself from taking another step towards her; he really didn't want to be intidimating. "I want the truth," he demanded sternly, keeping his voice at a neutral volume. "Did he hurt you two? Did he strike you, throw you around?"

"Why does it matter?" Samantha's eyes blazed. "It has nothing to do with this investigation, right?"

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but they both fell silent at hearing Kyle step out of the room. "All ready for bedtime?" the Special Agent asked light-heartedly, his facial features softening.

"Yup," the child said cheerfully, and Gibbs relaxed. It appeared Kyle, Jr. hadn't heard the conversation going on in the hall. "Sissy... are you okay?" Kyle rushed up to Samantha and gripped her hand with his own, staring up at her with owlish blue eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Sam retorted. "Don't you worry. Do you want me to read you some more Warriors?"

Kyle, Jr. quickly nodded and turned to give Gibbs a shy look. "G'night, erm..."

"Just call me LJ." Gibbs gave his fatherly smile and added, "Good night."

**

* * *

**

"Okay, Boss, the last one's set," Tony said nearly five minutes later as Ziva finished placing the camera above the bathroom door. He punched in a few numbers on his phone. "Can you see us, Probie?"

"Yeah, I can," Timothy McGee's voice drifted from the phone. "The other cameras are working fine. Small place." He paused. "Is that a dog outside the house?"

"No, Probie, it's a man-eating monster, and I refuse to let it come into the house," Tony bit back, suppressing a shudder.

Gibbs and Ziva exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes.

"You left the front door unlocked," Tim stated matter-of-factly.

"I did? How do you know, McGeek?"

"Well, actually, the dog just let itself inside."

"Good one, Probie. Almost fell for it," he chuckled.

"No, I'm serious." Another pause. "He's right behind you."

"Pft. If that thing was behind me, it would've bitten my ass off." Tony hesitated, feeling multiple pairs of eyes on his back. "Ziva, is that dog behind me?"

"Turn around and see for yourself," came the passive response.

"Maybe I don't want to."

Gibbs let out a loud sigh and yanked the phone from Tony. "McGee, has Abby found out anything else?"

"Err, no, Boss. She's, uh, still running the fingerprints."

"Nothing on the blood?"

"No, Boss, she's working on that, too."

"You know what to do if she comes up with anything. And don't fall asleep over there." With that, Gibbs disconnected the call. _Good thing there are phone wires around these woods,_ he thought to himself.

"Honestly, afraid of a dog?" Ziva mocked Tony as the Italian tried to edge around Shadow, who was just sitting there in the middle of the hallway with his eyes half-closed.

"DiNozzo doesn't do scared, Zeevah," Tony retorted. "Especially not of a dog. If that thing can even be considered a dog." He twitched.

"Are you two just going to stand there and yak?" Gibbs tossed the phone back to Tony. "Get going."

"Going where, Boss?" the senior field agent asked in confusion.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Nowhere, DiNozzo, except to the living room. It's our guest room for the night."

"Ahh..." The younger man looked thoughtful. "I call for the couch."

"I don't think the dog would like that," Gibbs smirked. "Now move."

Shadow remained in the hall, keeping guard by Kyle, Jr.'s room while the Special Agents settled down. Both Gibbs and Ziva seated themselves on the lumpy couch, while Tony seemed to change his mind and headed for the armchair.

"Is Kyle asleep?" Ziva asked, checking her gun to confirm it was loaded.

"Sam's reading him some book called... Warriors." Raising an eyebrow, Gibbs wondered aloud, "Which I find strange."

"What's so strange about reading a cat series?" The Mossad looked confused.

"Wait, wait, wait. There's a series... about cats... called Warriors?" Tony queried incredulously. "How can cats be warriors?"

_My question exactly._

"You'd have to read it for yourself, Tony. Ah, right, you're not a cat-person..."

"I'd rather watch The Warriors, no cats involved. Not that I condone gangs..."

Gibbs sat back and journeyed into his own thoughts, the voices of Ziva and Tony becoming background noise.

His nose twitched at the faint scent of alcohol lingering in the room.

Kyle Reed was a highly respected Marine. Clean background check, no drugs. Yet this was where he lived, wasting his private life away on beer.

And Gibbs' gut told him that Reed was not a good father, like Samantha shakily claimed.

This was one of those cases in which the Marine could be considered a book judged by its cover.

There was always much more than met the eye.

Gibbs just hoped something could be done... No, he was going to make it be done. He was going to protect these kids. And he was going to get his hands on that missing Marine.

If the man was ever found.

**

* * *

**

_They were here first..._

**

* * *

**

**AN: 'Cause I feel like giving you a heads-up on the next chapter... Ziva goes with Samantha to school, and Tony goes with Kyle, Jr., while Gibbs looks further into the investigation. Meanwhile, in a nearby lake, a fisher spends some time on his little boat, doing what fishermen are supposed to be doing, when he comes across something that greatly affects the case. **

**Until next time. :)**

**P.S. I expect two more reviews before I update... So, let's get to 7!**


	5. Because It Is

**AN: Three months? Shoot. I didn't mean to procrastinate that long... I wasn't even paying attention to the time. But here's chapter five! -nervous chuckle- I didn't get as far as I wanted, but I'm tired (my common excuse) and a bit scatter-brained. Hope you guys like it, though.**

**Replies to:**

**rowlinglover222: Nuuu. I was actually thinking of that for, like... five minutes. But then it was like, "Hell no," so I went a different direction. A slightly twisted direction I hope everyone likes.**

**Dragon: I'll say. I just want to rip my own eyes out sometimes.**

**Oh, and...**

**1) DUDE, HOW'D YOU KNOW.**

**2) I know, right? I want another rottweiler... They rock.**

**3) Um... Meow!**

* * *

_Mm, what you say,_

_Mm, that you only meant well,_

_Well, of course you did._

_Mm, what you say._

_Mm, that it's all for the best,_

_Because it is._

* * *

Samantha decided to replace fear with a more useful emotion: indignation.

"Does she _have_ to come with me to school?"

Gibbs' face was a blank slate. "Yes, unless you would prefer DiNozzo."

Looking over to see Tony waggling a dog treat at Shadow and then nearly getting his hand bitten clean off, Samantha instantly replied, "No, Ziva's fine."

"I'm glad you think so," Ziva remarked dryly.

Samantha didn't reply. She hadn't meant to be a snot the past 12 or so hours - and she hadn't meant to be an even bigger one that morning. But she just felt so irritated. Black dots continued to swarm into her vision as an increasingly dull pain in her chest became more tedious. It was only making her agitation worse. Being afraid made her angry. Being in pain made her angry. She just wanted to sleep, but she hadn't been able to.

Her little brother came toddling from the hallway, smoothing his crinkled clothes as he went to the closet by the front door to retrieve his school backpack. When he turned back to everyone, his big blue eyes were round. "Can I... erm... be with Sis t-today?" he squeaked out.

"Afraid not, buddy," Gibbs said gently. "You need to go to your own school."

"B-B-But... what if s-something happens?" Kyle stammered fearfully, staring at Samantha.

"Nothing's going to happen." The silver-haired NCIS agent spoke calmly. "Agent David will be with Sammy; Agent DiNozzo will be with you. You're both in good hands. Right?"

"Yes, of course," Ziva said automatically.

"Right, Boss," Tony chirped, scooting behind Samantha to get away from Shadow, who was scarfing on the bone he was given.

Samantha narrowed her eyes as Gibbs glanced sideways at her. Unable to hide the building anger in her voice, she said tensely, "We're ready to go." She tried to ignore the look exchanged between Ziva and Tony as she grabbed her brother's hand and marched outside on quivering legs.

Kyle, Jr. didn't protest to the fast pace or the unconscious squeezing of his hand.

* * *

The drive was long, silent, and tense - except for some of Tony's quips.

This was one of the reasons Samantha hated living out in the country. It took about 45 minutes to reach the city. Of course, that meant getting up earlier than some kids at her school.

She rested her forehead against the rear window. The morning chill of it crept through her skin; it felt better than the burning sensation below her neck. She raised the hood of her sweater over her head and played with the drawstrings, trying to shake off the drowsiness dragging at her.

Gibbs' voice snapped her out of a semi-doze. "Samantha, Ziva. Your stop."

As Ziva got out, Kyle, Jr. wrapped his arms around Samantha's waist. "Be okay," he muttered. "Be okay."

Awkwardly Sammy hugged him, but she was too tired and distracted to say anything as she opened the door on her side and left the vehicle. She heard Tony say cheerfully, "Ready for school, young man? I can introduce you to some ladies," followed by a smack - 99.9% chance caused by Gibbs' head-slapping.

"What a child," murmured Ziva as she walked beside Samantha towards the the quiet high school. It would be another ten minutes before the doors opened and the grounds started bustling with faculty and students.

Sammy didn't answer as she crossed her arms below her breasts.

"Are you alright?"

She gave a noncommital grunt.

"Perhaps if you'd tell me what's wrong..."

Her nerves raw and bloodied, Samantha rounded on Ziva. "Everything!" she cried, waving her arms, nearly hitting the older woman. "Everything is wrong! And you're all making it worse! I want you to leave me and my little brother _alone_!" She rubbed her hands over her face and realized her cheeks were wet with tears. "Just disappear..." she whispered.

Ziva's fingers rested on Samantha's wrist. "Why?" was all she asked, but her voice was soft and warm and concerned.

For a moment all Samantha wanted to do was give in to the woman's touch. She wanted to collapse and let Ziva embrace her. She wanted to tell her everything. She wanted to be protected and cared for.

But instead she yanked away. "Don't touch me!" she spat. "Don't act like you care!"

"I do care," Ziva said slowly, for once looking a little unsure of what to say or do. It was obvious she wasn't very used to handling emotional scenes.

Another burst of outrage overtook Samantha, and she flung her backpack hard at the ground in front of Ziva. Unable to speak or even scream through her red haze, she whirled around and continued to walk.

It wasn't her who need to be protected and cared for.

* * *

"Gibbs!" Abby flung herself at her boss and gave him a bone-crushing hug. "I've missed you so much!"

Barely managing to refrain from spilling his coffee or the Caf-Pow, Gibbs grunted, "It hasn't even been 24 hours, Abbs."

The cheery goth stepped back and took her Caf-Pow with a big grin. "I think I've found your prime suspect!"

Gibbs sighed as he noticed the four empty plastic cups of Caf-Pow, and the bags under Abby's eyes. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

"A good hour and 15 minutes." Upon recieving a stern look, Abby took a sip from her new Caf-Pow and admitted, "I'm sorry, but I can't stop thinking about those poor kids. Especially since Tony told McGee and me what a dump that house is, and what a drunkard the idiot father was. And since I couldn't sleep, and while my babies were working hard to find the person of those mystery fingerprints, I was helping McGee do extensive research on our missing Marine."

Gibbs took a long drink from his much-needed coffee as he watched Abby practically skip over to the table and retrieve a file. "And what did you find?"

"A very interesting something." Suddenly looking solemn, the young woman handed the file over. "It's about the Marine's wife. Or... late wife."

With only a slight hesitation, Gibbs put down his coffee and started examining what he hoped was some good evidence.

"Evelyn Reed," he muttered. He skimmed the first page. "Where's that very interesting something?"

"Oh! Oops. Here." Abby flipped the first couple pages over and pointed to the third.

Gibbs read it. Twice. "Son of a bitch." Pissed at himself for not coming across the information earlier, he dropped the file back on the table, polished off his coffee, tossed it in the trash, and headed for the door. "Thanks for the find, Abbs," he called over his shoulder as he left.

Once in the elevator, he ran a hand through his hair. Now he was almost certain Kyle Reed was dead.

With a light ding, the elevator doors slid open - to reveal a frazzled-looking McGee.

"Boss! I was just looking for-"

"Spit it out," Gibbs demanded as he walked past. "We have a suspect to catch."

"Boss, a fisherman found the body of Kyle Reed in a lake a while ago."

How unsurprising. Slowly Gibbs turned around and fixed his agent with a piercing blue gaze. "Get Ducky and grab your gear."

"But Boss, a suspect was also just brought in-"

"Who?" Gibbs snapped.

"Er, Tom Huo. He was involved in one of the bombings."

Definitely not the man he was looking for. "Let him wait for an hour or two. Now get moving!"

McGee scurried away, leaving Gibbs to himself.

He moved to McGee's buzzing computer, seeing as his own was turned off and he just didn't have the damn time to turn it on. His fingers tapped at the keyboard, searching for something.

Just as Ducky, Palmer, and McGee arrived at the bullpen, wa-la, Gibbs had what he needed. He quickly tucked it in his pocket and briskly led his small team out.

Finally, things were starting to make sense.

* * *

**AN: Next time, the discovery of Kyle Reed's body and the interrogation of Tom Huo leads Gibbs on another step to solving the case once and for all. But he realizes some questions are for Samantha to answer. Meanwhile, Ziva also starts putting together the puzzle of the fateful night their Marine mysteriously disappeared.**

**Let's get two more reviews! So... up to 10! -floats to bed-**


	6. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

**It's me here... I know it's been 14 months, and I feel badly about it. I don't know if anyone's even looking at this story anymore, and if not, I get it. A lot's been going on and I ended up losing inspiration for "Hide and Seek." And NCIS has been kind of... dull this past season. However, tonight's episode was actually pretty good. I feel like it was a step forward for some of our beloved characters on the show, like, say... Ziva and Tony? Abby (and McGee)? Hinthint. ANYWAY! I happened to be reading over some of your guys' reviews earlier, and I realized I should finish up "Hide and Seek." Only a few more chapter to go, I believe - but obviously multifics aren't exactly something I should do, heheh. So after this one I think I'll lay low on them. I already deleted some of my other multifics. But this one I don't want to delete. I'd like to finish. And I did tell one reviewer who stumbled across my story months ago (before the summer?) that I planned to update. Over the summer. But then I went to Europe, and some shit went down with a friend, a lot of things changed, etc... and I couldn't bring myself to think much about fanfictions. Recently I wrote a Bones oneshot, and it made me think a little. I hate to disappoint you all. And you probably forgot, heheh. To cut to the chase, I might finish "Hide and Seek" over Christmas break. Not making any promises... but I need to know, if any of you want it to continue and wrap up. If I don't get any responses, I may go ahead and do it anyway. If I do, then yeah. I just want to make sure. So... I hope to hear from you lovely reviewers. :)**


	7. Just What We Need

**Author's Note: And as I was writing this chapter, I got two reviews encouraging me to keep going until the very end. Whoo! It is 1:30 in the morning and I am tiiired, but I actually really wanted to write tonight. So, here you have it! The tension builds!

* * *

**

Ziva bent down and picked up the backpack, staring after Samantha as she stomped away. The girl's anger wasn't fooling Ziva; she was petrified, alone, _in pain_.

The former Mossad set her jaw. She was going to get to the bottom of this. Gibbs had been easy on the kid, his fatherly side grabbing hold of him and nudging away his stern authority, his ability to extract answers when he damn well needed them. But Ziva had never been a parent. Admittedly, her maternal clock ticked at times, and she did care for children; however, it did not get in her way. As she thought about it, she realized why her boss had been just a little more lenient lately: he related to Samantha, even if he did not realize it. They were both fearless when letting themselves be known, and they did not allow others to bully them. They both knew loss, and thus they knew how devastation leads to pure petulance, isolation, unbearable hurt. They had to grow up too fast.

With this in mind, she noted she herself related to Sam. That didn't mean she wasn't going to go easy, though, not with their case at stake here.

But damn it, she couldn't do anything now. Other students were starting to arrive, and as teachers flowed in and brought life to the school in this still morning, all Ziva could do at the moment was stride over to Samantha and hand her her backpack.

And as she did so, she looked into the girl's dark eyes and held them for a split second - and she knew Samantha knew.

* * *

Drumming his fingers on the wall, Tony stared at the board of little kid drawings, so simple and obvious. Houses, parents, dogs, cats, themselves, etc. They all looked kinda shitty, but hell - they were kid drawings.

His eyes caught one near the bottom of the board, just at the edge. In small, messy letters, the corner of the drawing adorned the name "Kyle Reed." He may have had a speech impediment, but he could write and spell. His name, at least. Tony couldn't help feeling sorry for the boy. Kids his age didn't normally have problems talking like that. It was likely a biological issue, but he knew it also had to do with the father's lack of attention. If there was any attention, it was possibly brutal.

He gazed at the picture. It was just a little surprising to see that it wasn't so bad. Kyle, Jr.'s drawing skills outmatched most of the others. There was a tad more detail, a tad more neatness, and somehow a tad more life. And when he colored, he chose the right colors and knew how to use his crayons patiently; unlike many kids, who had a tendency to scribble all over the place. This Tony knew.

But it was the image itself that caught his attention. It was of a quaint little house, different from the dump in the woods, and standing in front of it were Samantha and Kyle, and they were smiling. Tony had never seen them smile quite like that; they always seemed so sad and anxious. And behind the kids was a woman, her hands resting on their heads, a grin on her face. Taken aback, Tony realized she looked exactly like Sam. Which led him to think, _Evelyn Reed. Their mother._

No Kyle, Sr. No father. He wasn't in this picture.

Even to the little boy, the Marine did not exist to him, or perhaps he just wished the man didn't exist.

Tony peeked inside the classroom nearby, taking in the sight of Kyle, his small blond eyebrows furrowed in concentration as the class teacher spoke.

_I only hope... that they weren't involved in their father's disappearance._

_

* * *

_"Cause of death, Ducky," Gibbs demanded instantly after watching the elderly man examine the body for a good two minutes.

"Gunshot, it seems," was the professional reply; Ducky was unaffected by his friend's tone. He pointed with his gloved fingers at the back of Kyle, Sr.'s head. "Two gunshots, actually. Directly through the skull. Mr. Reed died an instant death, never knowing what hit him, I believe." Spurring on before Gibbs could get the next question out, "I would say he's been dead for over two days." Ducky glanced at the silver-haired agent. "Since Friday."

Again, unsurprising. "This lake is about 30 minutes away from his house, if you walk fast," Gibbs estimated, looking around at the crime scene. The perimeters were secured, agents were milling about looking for evidence. The lake was calm, as though it had not had the bloating, stiff body of a man beneath its surface only a while ago.

"Hm." Turning back to the body, the medical investigator looked along Kyle's posterior, then lifted him slightly so he could take a second peek at the anterior side. "It doesn't appear he was dragged through the woods, so he was hauled along in something. A wagon, perhaps, one big and sturdy enough to carry Mr. Reed. I'll need to perform an autopsy if I'm to investigate this further."

The corner of Gibbs' lip twitched upwards; it was a humorless smile. "His kids hold the answer. Or at least, Samantha does."

Ducky raised his eyes to look closely at his companion, clearly troubled. "You don't suppose...?"

"I'm going to pick her up from school. She can miss a few classes for one day." He turned abruptly. "McGee!" he barked. "Help Ducky and Palmer take the body back to the lab, and then I want you to look into something."

"Yes, boss," the young agent immediately replied, coming over swiftly. "What is it?"

He had the information he'd printed out from McGee's computer earlier. Pulling the folded paper from his front packet, he handed it over. "You know what to do," Gibbs said promptly, ignoring the raised eyebrow of his agent. "I'm taking the car."

* * *

It was the sound of screeching that brought Ziva running from the girls' bathroom across the hall from the cafeteria. She'd only been gone for a damn _thirty seconds_ - her bladder was no way invincible against the need to urinate - and here she was, standing at the door of the lunchroom, staring in shock as she watched Samantha get into a fight with another girl as a crowd formed around them. "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Catcalls rang out.

She hissed in annoyance. _Are all Americans such idiots? _"Get out of my way!" she bellowed, shoving past teenagers that huddled in amongst the mass of cheering morons. "Move it! Samantha, stop!"

No heed, however. The girl had lost her temper, and as she shoved her opponent to the ground, she came up huffing, her mouth in an angry 'o'. Ziva was horrified to see blood spotting her shirt. "Sam!"

Again, no heed, because Sam's adversary had leaped up and tackled her, her fists pummeling in all directions.

Growling, Ziva stepped forward and yanked the girl back by her hair before she could do any further damage. "STOP IT!" Now Samantha wasn't the only one who'd lost her temper. "Do you enjoy beating each other senseless? And you!" She glowered a deadly glower at the crowd all around; everyone shrunk back, sensing the fury emanating from this strange Israeli woman. "You! Are you so entertained by this nonsense? Do you enjoy violence?" _Calm, David, calm. You are losing control. _She sucked in a breath, willing herself to relax her angry muscles. Ziva let go of the girl she held onto, and looked stonily at her face; one eye was beginning to swell, while her lip was busted open. "I suggest you see the nurse," she advised, her tony icy calm. "You too, Samantha." As the bystanders slowly dispersed and a couple teachers called for everyone to head back to class, Ziva took Sam by the arm and pulled her up firmly.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

There was no response. When Ziva looked over at Samantha, she saw tears welling up in her eyes. She sighed. "We will go to the nurse's office now," and she led the silent girl away.

* * *

Whoever Samantha had fought with, she was immediately given an ice patch and sent to the principal's office after begrudgingly admitting she'd been the one to start the fight. Samantha was expected to go to the office as well, but Ziva asked - more like ordered - the nurse to leave her be so she could patch up the girl and talk to her alone. The nurse complied, but only after a threat was implied.

The agent closed the door, pulled down the blinds, and said to Sam, "Take off your shirt."

"What?" the girl laughed sarcastically, only to wince in pain.

"You heard me," Ziva said, keeping a few feet away. "You are bleeding. Take it off, and I will help you."

"I told you before-"

"Now," she ordered. Her tone was not harsh, but it was stern and unwavering enough that Sam hesitated, looking down at her shirt, which was seeping through ever more with blood. Even despite the fact that she was wearing black, Ziva hadn't mistaken it for anything else.

Sharp pains were lancing through her chest, piercing her skull and behind her eyes, sending tremors along her arms and legs. Fatigue washed over her. "Okay," she finally said. She was tired of fighting.

Her shirt came off slowly, and she watched nervously, through a thin veil of pain, as Ziva pursed her lips at the sight of freshly wrapped bandages gone soiled with red.

"We will replace those bandages, after cleaning you up," she noted. "I shall help you take them off - and don't argue."

_Too tired... _"Okay." The girl sounded robotic to her own ears.

She jumped a little as Ziva walked behind her and began unwrapping the bandages, her hands inadvertently touching Samantha. She hated being touched.

And when it was done, Ziva ordered Sam to lay down on the cot, to which she complied. Paper towels were yanked from the dispenser nearby and pressed to the pale skin above her breasts. "The bleeding needs to be stopped first."

"I know."

"What did he do to you?"

It wasn't necessary to say who 'he' was. Samantha lifted the towels for a few seconds and examined her wound. Three jagged marks running vertically across her chest, only by maybe four to five inches, perhaps half a centimeter deep. Blood trickled out. It wouldn't have been too serious if pus hadn't started to form along the edges, if the skin around the injury wasn't swollen and puffy with an an angry red. Infection.

Samantha bit back more tears. She'd tried. She'd tried to take care of it, but apparently the peroxide she'd used and the constant change of dressing didn't help, nor were the muffled shrieks she'd let out as she practically tore apart the bathroom towel with her mouth - she couldn't let her brother, her sweet little brother, hear her - come to be worth anything. It had been in vain. And now she felt the fever creeping along.

Ziva found some supplies in a pair of drawers, having realized she wasn't getting a response just yet - and they didn't exactly have a lot of time. "I will do what I can," she stated matter-of-factly, "and then I'm calling Gibbs so we can take you to the hospital."

Her lower lip trembled. "Okay," Sam whispered for the third time. She let the woman place a hand on hers gently.

"I'm sorry I can't stop the pain," Ziva murmured. And she went on in a slightly louder voice to talk of random things as she pulled on a pair of gloves. It was to distract her, Sam realized, and she wondered if her previous words had meant something else.

She closed her eyes, and waited for more pain to come.

* * *

_Mm, what you say?_

_Mm, that it's just what we need._

_And you decided this._

_Mm, what you say?  
_

_What did she say?_

_

* * *

_**Author's Note: Gah, found some errors... ****That's what I get for writing while sleep-deprived! But I'm still pretty satisfied with this chapter overall. I know it was probably a little confusing. I switched back and forth a few times, but I felt it was time to get other POVs in. I may edit Chapter 5, by the way. There's something about it that I don't like. So, we have 2-3 more chapters left until the end of "Hide and Seek"! ****Whoot-whoot. Let's get to 15 reviews this time, so I know I still have some of my readers (or new ones). And now, I'm back to my AP Government project before I procrastinate further.**

**Oh, wait! NEXT TIME... As Gibbs and Ziva take a battered Samantha to the hospital, the girl, finally cracking, speaks at last. But will she speak the truth? What happened on the fateful night her father was murdered and tossed into the lake? Meanwhile, Tony discovers something different when Kyle, Jr. talks as well. McGee carries out his task given to him by Gibbs, but hits a dead-end. Does the suspect they hold in interrogation have anything to do with what's going on?  
**

**On a second note, I realized I probably could've had McGee's task carried out right away if Gibbs had left him at the bullpen... but I'm too lazy to change it now. xD  
**


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